Dancing Fingers
by Awesome Laugh Trio
Summary: Songs are frequently passed down through the ages. This one is no exception. Hungary/Austria. Oneshot.


**A/N: Hi, guys. Happy 2012.**

**...aaack, jeez! Sorry about the unannounced hiatus for so long! D: I wasn't planning on that happening, I just got caught up in life and more fun fandoms. But mostly life. I'm trying to get back into writing more frequently, though, so start looking for more updates more often than every few months, though some of them, like this one, might be shorter than what you're used to from me for a little while.**

**Anyway here have a cute little Austria/Hungary oneshot.**

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><p>He drags his father into the worn brick building by the collared sleeve. "We are going to be late," he insists.<p>

His father smiles gently down at him. "We've still got fifteen minutes until your lesson starts, kiddo. I think you'll be fine."

Roderich grumbles, letting go of the sleeve and crossing his arms. They go into the hall together, sitting down on a bench. Roderich peers through the window cautiously, and spots someone.

He shuffles himself towards the back of the bench, pressing himself against his father, who looks down at him. He knows this girl; he is positive that his father does too. She's never been there before, he's never seen her outside of their kindergarten classroom, so the startled expression on his face is to be expected. His father lets out a hearty chuckle.

"Who's she?" he asks, despite already knowing the answer, and Roderich ponders over it for a second.

"Her name is Elisabeta," he informs him, "and even though she acts like a boy and I believe she thinks she's one," he lowers his voice, "I'm going to marry her when we grow up. She'll be a good girl by then." His father looks at him, and then her, and back to him.

"I see," he nods. The door flings open, and Elisabeta storms out. She's yelling, calling the teacher and her own mother stupid and all these other things that Roderich knows isn't very nice. His father leans over and covers Roderich's ears after a little while, giving him a look.

She huffs, flopping down onto the bench near them. Roderich removes his father's hands after noting the storm of nasty words have vanished and all that's left is the dark gray cloud lingering over her. He offers her a slight smile and she sticks her tongue at him. Roderich huffs, and the teacher finally comes out after Elisabeta's mother.

"Are you ready for today's lesson, Roderich?" the teacher questions, motioning towards the door as the tension between Elisabeta and her mother can be physically felt in the air.

Roderich nods, then adding, "Can I keep the door open for the first part of the lesson?"

The teacher pauses. "I don't see why not," she replies slowly with an aimless shrug.

"Before we start the lesson, can I show you something I've been working on?" he questions, and the teacher nods. "I have been working on it a lot. I hope you like it." He sneaks a glance at Elisabeta before beginning to let his fingers slide across the keys, a repetitive pattern of black and white.

"That was very nice, Roderich," the teacher commented with a smile.

Roderich peered out the window, and upon noticing that the lobby was empty, he frowned a little. "You can close the door now if you would like."

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><p>High school rolls around before anyone can bat an eye. Roderich soon finds himself at home in the music room after school, frequently landing there during open study periods or breaks simply to get acquainted with the old piano. After a while, the teacher simply gives him a copy of the key in case he ever wants to visit. Roderich is a good kid, after all- a bit stuffy, but a good kid.<p>

He rests his fingers on the worn ivory, small dents where he has left his careful mark. He plays back the song from memory, drifting away as his fingers seize control of his brain. She is on his mind; she always is when he plays it. He's improved upon the melody over the years, rounding out chords and making mildly more extravagant, but not by a lot. She's always liked simple things, something that didn't always click to Roderich.

He fades away after a while, lost in thought. His fingers continue to waltz around the chessboard, and he is unable to hear the door click and turn. Radiance walks into the room, humming a tune under her breath.

"Oh, hi there," she says. "Sorry if I was interrupting! I just had to come grab my flute..."

His fingers stop moving, as not even they are in control at this point. He stares at her. Roderich is sure that, at this point, his jaw has slackened and he is drooling like an imbecile, or perhaps a primate of some flavor. "Sorry," she repeats, creasing her eyebrows together and huffing quietly.

He attempts to regather himself, and says, "Apology accepted." They are the only words which will tumble out of his mouth. _Gosh, I sound like prick_, he thinks to himself. He returns to playing, a casual piece to calm his nerves, his fingers shaking and brain fried to the point of messing up on simple structures. The tendons and nerves would give out before he could play a piece like the one for Miss Elisabeta until she at least left the room.

"It sounds nice, by the way," Elisabeta comments, closing the door behind her.

Roderich pauses and thinks for a second, wondering which piece she meant. In a gust of courage, he stands up, leaving his papers behind him, and begins walking after her down the hall. His slacks won't allow him to move very quickly, but he catches up soon enough.

"Excuse me, Miss Elisabeta," he starts, and she turns around, green eyes staring straight through him. "If you wouldn't mind, er, I mean, would you care to accompany me to prom?"

Her smile softens. "I would love to, Roderich."

"I will pick you up at seven, then," he nods, heading back to the music room. "I look forward to it."

* * *

><p>Prom night is a very large success, to almost an extreme point. It is there that a relationship buds, and eventually it blossoms, coming to its largest bloom in the shape of a small, delicate ring.<p>

Roderich clears his throat near the microphone, hands continuing to shake by his sides. "Hello," he says, backing off after he's sure he's gotten the attention of the crowd. "I would just like to mention that I wrote this song for dear Elisabeta a while ago, but this is the first time that I have shown it in public, with the exception of when I was in kindergarten and I introduced it to my piano teacher as the first song I had ever written myself." He pauses, letting the chuckles die down. "Thank you."

He sits down on the wooden bench, stretching his arms as he locks eye contact with the new Mrs. Edelstein. He closes his eyes, the notes swirling in a multitude of colors and he begins to play.

His fingers are dancers, adapting long legs and lots of agility to keep up with the aggressive sport. He rocks slightly to the slow beat in three, opening his eyes at the end to the swirled painting in front of him, melodic shades of blue and green and streaks of harmonizing pink tied in. An applause ripples through the crowd.

Roderich leaves the stage, wading through tables to finally get to his.

"Did you like it?" he asks, pulling out the chair for his new wife- oh, he just couldn't get over that word. Wife. It was marvelous, music for his tongue.

"I've loved it since I first heard it in kindergarten," she replies.

"You-" he starts, his words no longer eloquent. He forgets that every time he gets up from the piano; this time is the worst it's been, "you've known about it for that long?"

"I didn't know that it was for me until late elementary school," she confesses, "but yes. The melody's enchanting, you don't have to worry." She smiles, and you can't help but smile back.


End file.
